


the grand tour

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cabin Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missing Scene, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Porn with Feelings, Smut, love in the time of hydra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So this is where Captain America slept," she says, giving Coulson a dirty sideways look.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Shameless cabin!sex missing scene smut from "Love In The Time of Hydra".</p>
            </blockquote>





	the grand tour

"Okay," she says, finally managing to bite back the tears, gathering herself in front of Coulson's soft eyes. "Aren't you going to give me a tour of the place?"

He studies her face, relieved to see she seems more up to it now.

Well, she's not one to wallow, and since she's going to be stuck here for the forseeable future...

He shows her to a little annex right outside, no more than a dirty cupboard.

"Do you know how to use a generator?"he asks.

"Please, Coulson."

He nods. You pick up a lot of stuff when you end up living on the street at seventeen. She can handle a generator. They switch the electricity and water on. Coulson seems like he is about to tell her to be careful if she wants to make a fire – yeah there's bought wood and fuel in the house already – but Skye fells the idea with one raised eyebrow.

The place is actually pretty big, or at least bigger than she expected. Not a werewolf cage. More like a retreat. And it's so clean, which makes Skye wonder. Who keeps this place. It's one of Fury's private-est, Coulson is telling her. The most secure he could find.

The bathroom even has a nice bathtub.

"So you can relax," Coulson says, and then fake-coughs like he suddenly realizes how inappropriate that just sounded.

It sounded very inappropriate. But Skye doesn't mind. She was the one who told him to cut the SHIELD crap anyway. She likes him better when he's a person. She likes him even better when he is an inappropriate person. She misses the days when he flirted back whenever she flirted. At some point she stopped flirting too. When did that happened.

He gives her the rundown of the food he's brought and they put some of it in the fridge together.

"I bought things that are easy to cook," he says.

Skye tilts her head. "You don't have much faith in my culinary abilities, do you."

He shrugs.

"Just in case you weren't in the mood."

"Good save."

She's trying to cheer herself up, and Coulson can probably tell she's trying, can probably tell she's trying a bit too hard. The idea of being alone with her powers – this is the part she hasn't told Coulson, can't tell Coulson – scares her. It's like there's someone else in the cabin, something else, and she's at its mercy. But she tries to look at it like some time-off. Middle of nature. Zen stuff. She can just be calm in the quiet. Maybe read or something.

"I'm not sure what's on the bookshelves, though," Coulson tells her, going through the books. "Bunch of political biographies, Fury and Rogers like those. Crime and thrillers, those are mine."

That grabs Skye's interest immediately, that some of the stuff in here is his. She looks at the paperbacks – humbled in the presence of those imposing hardbacks with aggressive titles like _Ike!_ , _The Kennedys!!_ , _The Reconstruction!!!_. She reads the names. John D. Macdonald. Paula Gosling. David Goodis. Walter Mosley. Skye has never heard of the stuff. And she wouldn't have figured Coulson for a crime lit fan. Interesting.

"Let me show you the bedroom," he says, drawing her away from the bookshelf.

It looks big and cozy. Skye is not sure about the decor – landscape paintings like the ones you'd find in a regular bed & breakfast, then again no one values safe houses for the decor, they are meant to be safe above all, although knowing Coulson he probably had a say in the decoration, oh god he totally did, didn't he, Skye is 120% sure. But yeah, this is luxury for her. And compared to living in a vibranium-lined cell for prisoner maybe it might even help her mental state, coax her into seeing things in a less bleak light. 

The bed looks pretty comfy, too.

"So this is where Captain America slept," she says, giving Coulson a dirty sideways look.

"Yeah."

She touches the pillow experimentally.

"I sure hope you didn't change the sheets."

Coulson shoves his hands in his pockets. "Why? You wanna try it?"

Skye knows it's an innocent joke, but she can't stop herself. No, literally, she can't stop herself.

It only lasts a second and it's not like anything really moved from its place, but there's no way Coulson doesn't notice.

He wides his eyes at her.

"I'm so sorry, Skye," he tells her in a horribly apologetic voice. He misunderstood. "I didn't mean to upset you. It was a joke. A bad one."

This is mortifying and it will definitely mess things between them – and right now that's the _last_ thing Skye wants – but she can't let him think he bothered her.

"No, no, no it's not it," she explains. 

Coulson steps back.

"Then what? Why are you upset?"

"It's not just when I get upset," she explains, beyond mortified. She hopes she's not going to provoke an earthquake from embarrasment, that'd be bad. "I mean, yes, it's _mainly_ when I get upset. But also – stressed, nervous, and mmm, excited. What you said did upset me, but for other reasons, not because I thought it was bad."

He seems to be considering her words for a moment. His eyes harden a bit.

"What do you mean excited?"

"I'm sorry," she says. "It's not really something I have control over. You just said... and I..."

Coulson frowns at her. It's not exactly a bad, Skye-you're-gross-and-inappropriate kind of frown. Just confused.

"I don't understand."

Skye tries laughing it off.

"Just forget it. Faux paux, okay? Let's get back to the kitchen."

She turns around, trying to walk out of the bedroom.

Coulson stops her, wrapping one hand lightly around her elbow, right above her cast.

"Skye."

And the touch, while light, is kind of intentional.

Skye stops the vibrations before they start this time, but of course Coulson notices her shaking.

"Skye," he repeats. 

"Look, I've already told you, _I'm sorry_. What else do you want me to say?"

Coulson lets her finish, and he lets her drop her gaze, and then he pulls her against his chest, bringing their mouths together.

It's soft and tentative, restrained, that's the word, restrained passion here, and Skye knew _this_ would be exactly how Coulson kisses people. Not that she has spent much time imagining how Coulson kisses. That's not what's happening here.

In her defense she didn't plan this, this wasn't – what was that word they use in laywer shows? – this wasn't ensnarement. Sure, she knew she loved Coulson – after all they've been through together, how could she not love the guy – she just never knew how to define that. Until a moment ago. So no, this wasn't a trap. And he's the one who made that stupid joke.

But the kissing... for a moment, before kissing Coulson back, Skye panics thinking she might have forgotten how to do this. The last person she kissed was Ward so this is definitely an improvement. And who knew Director Coulson was such a nice kisser? He's pretty nice all around, actually, no it shouldn't surprise her. She lets him guide her, she follows his lead, opening her mouth under his attentions. The way he grabs her hips while he kisses her, almost shyly, is worth the ticket alone. Skye feels a rush of love and safety enveloping and she sighs against Coulson's mouth, relaxing in his arms.

They make out for a long long time before it escalates. Which is nice, because she can't remember the last time she could just have the luxury of making out with somebody she likes like this, exploring each other's mouths selfishly.

When he breaks the kiss Coulson's normally-pink lips look red and satisfied and Skye feels herself smiling, really smiling for the first time since... she doesn't remember. Since before Trip, that's for sure. Coulson can't imagine how grateful she feels for that. For the way he's looking at her right now while he threads his fingers through her hair, like they are both very young and very tender.

"So... you wanna try Captain America's bed?" he asks.

Skye nods. "I really do."

He pauses, realizes how direct that was.

"I'm not normally this straightforward," he tells her.

"I bet you are, actually."

Coulson swallows. Caught.

"Yes, but – I'm fond of...uh, _prologuing_. I just..."

He looks at a loss for words. But Skye has the feeling she knows what he means. And okay, she'd also love to do the whole courtship thing, if only because guys normally wouldn't bother with that, when it comes to her, and Coulson looks like he would bother, for her. But she doesn't know that they might have much choice in the matter. She remembers an old poem she had to study in high school, something about not being able to stop time but being able to make it go faster instead. She liked that idea, probably the only good stuff she remembers from high school.

"So I'm not the only one who feels like we might not have much time, uh?" she asks him.

Coulson shakes his head softly, agreeing.

It's not exactly a now-or-never situation, but Skye is going to be alone for a while. She wants to have this at least. That might not be fair to Coulson, she realizes, but she loves him, she hopes that fact makes it all right, better.

"Skye," he calls.

"I want this," Skye tells him.

This time he nods and starts stroking her shoulders, her back.

Undressing is, actually, a bit complicated. Skye tries to slip Coulson's jacket off his shoulder but... her hands. Frustrating. He does it himself, he takes off his jacket and his tie and his shirt with this kind of quiet dignity Skye suddenly finds very appealing.

It's _her_ clothes which are a problem.

"Careful, careful," he mutters, when she tries to slip her top over the casts on her arms. But it won't go any further.

So they have to take off the casts first, then her shirt and her bra, and wrap her hands again. It's almost ritualistic and not entirely unerotic if you ask Skye. Coulson does it patiently, so helpful, it kinda goes straight between her legs.

"Thanks."

What a pair of polite would-be lovers they are. But it's sweet of him, and Skye stares at Coulson a bit in awe, in disbelief, when he puts the casts on her arms again, gently adjusting the straps.

She touches his hair impulsively and Coulson looks up and smiles, but he's concentrated, securing the last one around her wrist.

Skye lies on her back, the bed covers a bit too rough against her skin, grabbing the headboard slightly, to keep himself from using her arms. Coulson sighs at her nakedness and covers her with his body, kissing her. And kissing her again. It goes on for a bit. So much that Skye almost misses it when Coulson slides his mouth away from hers and down to her chin, her throat, the hollow of her neck – where he spends even more time – and between her breasts.

He captures her nipple in his mouth – _captures_ , right? that's what they say in those trashy novels she has totally for sure _not_ read; not that she should be judged if she had downloaded a couple of those way back, people don't know how lonely living in a van can get – and Skye has to remember not to move her hands too much, because she wants to grab his hair, guide him, push him down already.

Satisfied with the sound she just made Coulson moves his mouth away from Skye's breast and she would complain but he slides down her body, which, right direction, go on, laying kisses on her stomach, over the scars on her skin all the alien blood in the world can't fade. Skye doesn't mind, actually. She wears them with pride.

He sucks at a wonderfully sensitive spot above her hipbone. But then he lifts his head, like he just remembered something.

"No, don't stop," she moans.

Coulson smiles and okay, that sounded a bit pathetic, and Skye rolls her eyes at herself.

"Do we need... something?" he asks. "I doubt Captain Rogers would have some condoms lying around. Or would he?"

"Now that's an interesting idea," she comments, eyes glazed over by the very nice prospect. Coulson growls. "What? You're not jealous, are you."

"Of _Captain America_. Why would I be?"

Skye pulls him towarss her and kisses him softly.

"It's fine, we don't need condoms, we're fine," she tells him.

Coulson nods.

He goes slow.

It occurs to Skye that is a way to ward off the nervousness.

That fits her just right, since she's quite nervous herself. 

It's been a while for her. Not just that, it's that – she's different. She doesn't just feel different, all over her, she _is_. Fitz tried to explain it to her, but she found it upsetting: it wasn't just her blood analysis, all her analysis had changed. A complete cellular transformation. She is a different person in a way – yes, still the red corvette, and she holds on to that idea as Coulson takes his time kissing the curve of her ribcage and she strokes his hair lazily, everything standing very still for once – a completely different body, even. So in a way, ludicrous as the idea is, she's never done this before with anyone else.

She shivers when Coulson presses one soft kiss under her belly.

"You're okay, right?" he asks her, looking up. For a moment Skye doesn't know what he means. "You're not going to bring down the cabin on us. Are you?"

Skye snorts.

"The ego on this one," she comments. "But thanks, Director, I needed the laugh."

But Coulson just stares back at her, smirking all smug and soft-eyed again. It's sexy, but above all it's reassuring.

He unbuckles her belt and for some reason it makes Skye hold her breath a moment. Coulson brushes his fingertips – calloused, it tickles a bit – above the waistband and he gets rid of her pants and underwear in one swift move. Well, well, well, Skye thinks, smiling to herself, isn't he the expert.

She's completely naked now. Yep. In front of her boss. Yep. In front of her twice-her-age boss. Good.

"Okay?" Coulson asks, noticing.

"I'm thinking you have me at a disadvantage here."

He smiles and pulls his t-shirt over his head, getting a clue. 

His scar is a bit bigger than she had expected, to be honest. She thinks back on the details he told her when she woke up from her own injuries – the whole alien thing had gone all the way through. It's disturbing.

Coulson slides up the bed and cover her mouth with his. It makes her forget the unpleasantness of thinking about his death. The pressure of his naked chest on hers is nice, the weight of it. Alive, the heart beating. He's solid, muscles well-defined from years on the field – not like Miles, who was all fiber and teenage fantasies. He kisses her a couple of times, pausing to stare at her face, looking at her like she's... yeah, like she is. Then he moves down again, crawling on his knees, settling between Skye's legs. His hand wrapped around her ankle for a moment, gently pulling them apart. Ankle-bone, Skye remembers, and almost laughs at how the day has turned out since then.

Guys don't do this the first time around, Skye thinks – in her limited experience of sloppy beer-laced kisses on first dates – but then again Coulson is not exactly _guys_.

She's relieved she's wet already and he pushes his tongue inside her easily. He uses his thumb on her clit and wow, he's definitely not new in town, he knows his way around. It makes her curious. She wonders if she can make him fess up about all the lovers he's had before her, what they liked, what he did to them. She feels herself aroused at the idea. Does that make her a sick person? Whatever, it's not like she needs the extra arousal, anyway.

"Relax," Coulson tells her.

She narrows her eyes at him. " _I was_ relaxing. But you keep stopping."

"Sorry," he whispers and drops his head once more.

He has one hand wrapped around the top of Skye's leg, to anchor her, his fingers digging into her flesh and Skye thinks that might just be her favorite part of it all. _No_ , wait, that's stupid, what he's doing with his tongue is her favorite part. Then he changes approach and starts sucking on her clit while his the top of his fingers tease the inside of her thigh.

Skye closes her eyes and lets time go by, let's Coulson's mouth and hands unravel her.

Okay, so she needed this, it turns out.

So much that when the moment arrives she almost rushes too much into it, losing her hard-won control for a moment.

Just as she is about to come Coulson pushes two fingers inside her and it's a bit too much and no, she doesn't bring the cabin down but she shakes one of the paintings in the bedroom askew, almost comically.

Great.

Her powers are just _awesome_.

"I'm sorry," she says, embarrassed. It's really difficult to keep one's chill when one's vagina can make earthquakes because one's middle aged boss is being absolutely insufferable. 

"I hope this was one of the good shakes," Coulson says.

And well, it's not so bad. Not so embarrassing then. He seems happy about it.

"One of the good ones, definitely."

"What was it about my ego, again?"

Skye rolls her eyes.

"So... are you gonna...?"

She feels ridiculous asking, but she actually wants him inside her right now.

"If you want," he replies, simply. "We don't have to."

Skye runs one warm hand across Coulson's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing against her palm, feeling the nervousness in the muscles of his stomach. She rests his hand over his hard-on, in what she hopes is an enticing gesture, not a gross one.

Coulson nod-groans, sitting back to work on getting out of his pants. Skye props herself on one elbow and watches him. It's better when they are on a level and he's naked too. 

He seems hesitant at first. Nervous? Maybe something else, Skye can't tell. He searches her face – he's so close, if Skye could just move, slide down a bit, _come on, Director_ – waiting for a signal.

"Come on," she says, but it comes all soft and disgustingly sweet instead of like a request.

He lets his head fall when he finally pushes into her, open-mouth kisses on her jaw and her neck as Skye draws a long breath, bracing herself for – _something_.

They both look at each other and smile, almost chuckle, when Coulson starts moving, caught by surprise by the feeling of it, as if they had both forgotten. It's a joyful moment, and she hasn't had many of those lately.

The whole thing is pretty surreal, she thinks, looking at the nice walls of the bedroom, wallpaper and b&b-like pictures. She throws her arms around Coulson's neck, and the casts remind her. What was that word they use for her – abomination? Something like that. Everything is so painful and hard and confusing right now. She just wants to hold on to this, because it's none of those things. It's not even confusing, really. No one has ever cared about her the way Coulson cares about her. It's simple. He doesn't see her like an abomination, or a monster or a weapon. That's why he brought her here, that's the point.

"Skye..."

And he keeps saying her name like that, brushing his nose against her collarbone, moving slowly into her, and then not so slowly. And this part is simple, this part almost feels normal – fucking in a cabin, wrapping her legs around Coulson's waist, holding someone she loves in her arms, feeling him tremble when he comes.

He doesn't pull away afterwards, just stays there, lifting his head to look at her eyes. His own expression is unreadable, but he does that sometimes. Skye looks at the way sweat has dampened his hair and made it stick to his temple, proof that something has happened to him as well.

"Sorry," Coulson says, looking to one side and clicking his tongue like he's disappointed at himself. "I haven't had much practice lately."

Skye draws her fingers across his shoulder, she hadn't noticed before, he has some tiny freckles. She smiles, still feeling him inside her.

"That's fine," she says, smiling up at him. "I had my fun before." Coulson looks unconvinced. It's more than just male ego. There's something else at play here. She touches his mouth. "You're going to be a complicated guy to handle, aren't you?"

"I didn't plan to be," he replies.

Then she realizes it must be the first time he had sex since... well, since the whole being brought back to life against his will like a zombie kind of deal. Ah, okay. She thinks she gets it now.

She arches to press her lips to his. "You were perfect."

He kisses her back and pulls out. They both moan at the sudden lack of connection.

Coulson rolls on his back, panting for a moment, staying very close to her, shoulder to shoulder. 

"But hey, if you are not satisfied with your performance, please, feel free to try again at your earliest convenience," Skye says.

Coulson chuckles.

"That's a very nice plan, actually," he says.

For a moment she has this feeling he is going to stay here with her forever, in this bed, and never go back to the base. And they'll just idle the days away having lots of awesome sex while Skye gets a handle on her abilities and Coulson cooks for her. For a moment Skye is convinced Coulson means to do just that. Not that she would let him, of course, but it's a nice feeling, nice and fleeting.

Funny, she had thought Coulson would freak out and go back to Director mode, worried about what they had done, worried about protocals and that. But he's not doing that. He just seems content for the moment, not remorseful or ashamed. That's good. Skye rolls on her side and takes a good look at that unsual sight while Coulson closes his eyes for a moment.

Something clicks for her as she stares.

"Hey," she says, pressing her mouth against the curve of his shoulder for a moment.

"Mmm?"

He sounds out of it, in a good way.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, too."

Skye watches realization wash all over Coulson's face. She thinks he might even blush. Maybe he didn't mean it like that back there, or maybe he thought she'd never get the meaning. Anyway he looks profoundly embarrassed by it. Skye kisses his shoulder again, and lets him know it's okay. Well, it's more than okay, she just said she feels the same.

 

 

+

 

 

Unfortunately they haven't gotten around to the "try again" part of the afternoon and they are just lazily snuggled under the covers – Skye wouldn't say they are cuddling, no, but they are not exactly _not cuddling_ either – when Coulson's phone rings.

Of course.

Just Skye's luck. Great guy, impossible hours.

"It's Mack," he says, a funny apologetic look on his face.

Skye leans against Coulson and bites his upper arm gently, a silly impulse that feels pretty good.

"Knock yourself out," she tells him, getting out of the bed. "I'll take a quick shower."

She tries not to think about the future too much while she does take the shower. The future is a bit shaky – no pun intended, though maybe she should start doing that, like her superhero calling card, bad puns about earthquakes, Coulson would love that. No, the future is unthinkable from where she stands. She stares at her healing bruises instead. More mauve than the dark blue they had been yesterday. Still ugly. Still something inside her which makes her feel ugly all the time, ever since the temple. That's what Coulson can't get about what he just did – make her feel less ugly for a moment. She needed that too. Not that she wouldn't have liked to have this nice thing happen between them at any moment, but she's really glad it happened today. Even though she realizes Coulson has to go back to the Playground, leave her here.

"Let me guess," she says, walking into the kitchen, toweling her hair with difficulty, as Coulson is tapping his fingers against the table, impatient waiting for her. "You have to go."

He looks at her with such sad eyes. He's put on his suit already, gone back to his perfectly polished – and a bit anal, if you ask her – professional image. No one would suspect he has been getting in on with a subordinate today. Which, good, Skye can't even imagine anyone else knowing for now, and she doesn't want Coulson to have to face awkward questions when he comes back.

And he's coming back.

He's leaving.

"This can't wait," he explains.

She nods, feeling a bit in despair for all her protests of being rational and mature about this.

"It's okay. I didn't think you were going to stay and we were going to cuddle in front of the fire."

She snorts at her own words, like it's the most absurd idea ever.

Coulson looks at her like that's the only thing he'd want to do now.Which – _wow_. Skye has no intention of shutting herself from the world, and she doesn't want to take Coulson away from it either, but it's nice to know he feels that way, that he gets romantic notions about this. Even Phil Coulson. What do you know.

He walks up to her, kissing her against the kitchen counter, wet hair dripping on the jacket of his suit. Great guy –impulsive, passionate, nice kisser– but awful hours. Skye will have to live with that.

"It's okay," she repeats, because she thinks he needs to hear it.

He must be thinking he's abandoning her here in the wilderness. But that's not the case. What Coulson has given her this afternoon, back in that room, she can't begin to tell him how important that was.

"Maybe... you should come back with me," Coulson tells her, and she knows he's this weak when it comes to her, she always knew. "Stay in the Playground. Leaving you here, it doesn't feel right."

Skye gives him a half-smile.

"I know it doesn't," she says. "And I know there's something about all this you're not telling me. I know something is going on."

"Skye –"

"No. I know, okay? But I trust you."

That seems to give him pause.

She knows he is not keeping secrets from her again, she knows that's not it.

"I'm not sure anything is going on," he says, looking bashful. "It could just be nothing."

Yeah, but he normally has good instincts.

Skye touches the tips of her fingers to his tie. Suddenly she's worried, gripped by the fear that he might be in danger.

"I just need to know... Do you need my help?" she asks.

Coulson rests his hands on her hips. "I always need you."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. But in my current state... is there a chance I'd make things more difficult for you if I stay in the base?"

Coulson stares at her and lets out a tiny sigh. He doesn't lie to her. She's seen that face before. When she asked him, a lifetime ago it seems, if she had any choice but to go down to the basement and get intel from Ward.

"Got it."

"You still can come back with me if you want," he tries. "We'll make it work."

She shakes her head. Looking down at the casts in her hands she decides the worst part of being disabled like this right now is that she can't hold Coulson's hand in hers and squeeze it to communicate support. That sucks.

"I agree with you," she tells her. "Obviously, I'm not an idiot. I didn't want to admit it because I didn't want to be left alone. But I understand it, I need to be somewhere I don't have to worry about hurting people. Or I'll never be able to control it."

"What changed your mind?"

He really had to ask?

"Now I know I am not being left alone. Am I?"

Coulson leans in and places one soft kiss on the corner of her mouth as reply. It's the answer Skye was hoping for.

"I'm glad. You were so hesistant all day," he says. "And now... you sound very sure of everything."

"Yeah, nothing like a roll in the hay to make everything seem clearer."

"You're welcome," Coulson says, smirking.

"I would punch you if I could," she teases, lifting her cast.

Coulson takes it in his hand and kisses her fingertips playfully.

Okay, he's good at this. 

"I'm sorry about this," he tells her, whispering into the space between her fingers.

"I know."

He hugs her.

It's funny, because they have just had sex, but being hugged by Coulson still feels very thrilling to Skye.

This time, though, she has this horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, like they are not going to see each other again in a while. She hopes she's wrong. She holds onto him tight in case she isn't. He holds her back just as tightly.

"We'll figure this out. Together. I promise," he says into her ear.

 

 

+

 

 

She spends almost hours going over the gloves issue with Simmons. So exhausting. And Simmons is well-meaning and she feels guilty for not being able to do more for Skye, which of course only makes Skye feel worse, more pressured.

She tries to shake that feeling off afterwards, and it is nice she can talk to the people in the team – where the hell is Hunter? It feels like she hasn't talked to him in ages, and she hasn't seen him in days. Is that part of why Coulson is so worried about the team right now? Why he acts so fidgety? - so she tries to keep the post-sex cheerfulness up through the evening. She makes herself some light dinner. Coulson bought a ton of stuff to make sandwhiches, figuring that'd be the easier choice. But he also put in some more challenging stuff, in case Skye wanted to distract herself by cooking. He must have known she wouldn't have much to do in the cabin, apart from meditating maybe. She picks up a book from the shelves – something about the Cold War and Truman's presidency – to read while she eats. It's always a good time to educate herself, Skye argues. High school drop-out insecurities. For a moment she wishes May's gorgeous ex-husband would come back and analyze her some more, he'd enjoy stuff like that. She wishes she could talk to Andrew some more, plain as that. She thinks he could help.

After dinner Coulson calls through the video link. If this were a regular relationship – ha! – she could feel proud he'd call so soon. But they are not like other people, she guesses. She has a father who forced her to get earthquake powers and Coulson has a car that flies. Not like other people at all.

She starts telling him about her evening, but she realizes they are not small talk people.

"You're finding your way around the place?" Coulson asks, a bit too eagerly. "Are you comfortable?"

"I found the note with the grilled cheese recipe," she tells him. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do. Just don't tell anyone."

She kind of regrets her werewolf-locked-up-during-full-moon comment from before. She doesn't want him to feel like he's making her do anything. Specially after this afternoon, after his offer to take her back with him. When he wrote that note about the grilled cheese he must have been feeling pretty guilty about the whole thing. 

Now he looks tired and stressed, in his office with the jacket off and the sleeves rolled up like whenever he's troubled about something.

But even tired and stressed it's good to see him, even through comms.

She looks at him and finds it _amazing_ that a few hours ago she was having sex with this guy. It almost makes her doubt it really happened.

"Did you talk to Simmons?" Coulson asks, straight to it.

"Yeah."

"And?"

She can tell he's trying hard not to sound impatient. He's not a very patient guy.

"I've decided I'm not going to use the gloves," Skye says. 

"I see."

A completely neutral expression, both of face and voice. That thing he does that Skye hates. Robot Coulson.

"I know you were hoping I could recover soon and go back to work. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, his expression softens. "That doesn't matter."

"It does," Skye insists. She doesn't want him to think she's naive, or that she doesn't know she should hurry and help the team with whatever they are about to face this time. "But other things matter, too. I don't want to risk not being able to – look, right now my powers are a bad thing. But I don't know if tomorrow I'll feel the same way. I don't want to close that door. Because this was always inside me, after all. What if it is me? What if it is a good thing? I want to wait and see. What do you think?"

Coulson waits to answer, the corner of his mouth curling imperceptibly.

"I think it's a good idea, if that's really what you want."

"After all, Lola can fly," Skye adds. "Yes, she's still a red 62 corvette. But flying... that's an _improvement_. Right? It is. Isn't it?"

She sees him smile openly at the mention.

"Well, Lola did save our lives once," he comments. "Because she could fly."

"Yeah," Skye agrees, remembering. It was an awful day, but it was a good day too. She felt cared for that day, because what Coulson did, not rescuing her but all he did afterwards. "I don't know if _I_ want to fly. But I don't want to make that decision based on fear. I want to give myself some time."

"I think that's very wise, Skye."

And she can see on his face maybe that was the answer he was hoping for. She can see he's torn about it, and that he wants her with the team and by his side, Skye doesn't doubt that. But perhaps there's a real reason why he wouldn't want her in the base right now.

"So, I was hoping you could be patient," she tells him.

"Of course."

Not that she thought Coulson was going to refuse her choice or rush her, but it's a relief to actually hear the words.

She lifts her legs, sitting crossed-legged on the chair.

"Are you finding the place too lonely?" Coulson asks, changing gears.

Skye huffs. "It's been four hours, Coulson, I'm not _that needy_."

He drops his gaze, trying not to laugh.

"I see you're in good spirits. Good."

Nothing like a roll in the hay – she's tempted to say that. But she doesn't know if she can.

"Is this line secure?" she asks him, for some reason adopting a conspirational tone when mentioning the elephant in the bedroom.

Coulson frowns.

"Internally, you mean? Yes, don't worry. It's secure. I'm free to tell you how much I love you over it if I want."

Skye arches one eyebrow. This started with him comparing her to a beautiful car and it has escalated pretty steadily from there.

"You're one smooth talker today," she tells him.

"It's the least I can do," Coulson replies, looking as smug as when he gave her an earthquake-worthy orgasm.

"Well, yeah," she mutters, a bit wrong-footed. She hasn't exactly told him she loves him yet. Though that should be evident.

"I'll talk to you in the morning," Coulson tells her. She guesses he's too busy for more. "See how you are doing."

"You'd better," she tells him, sounding like she's joking, but _he'd better_ call. "But not too early. I'm going to take this chance and sleep in to my heart's content. Life under May's rule doesn't allow for many late mornings if you know what I mean."

"Sleeping in sounds... nice."

He sounds a bit wishful, like he would like to sleep in with her. That certainly sounds nice – a morning after, lazily cuddled together. Skye would like that, sappy as it sounds.

"Thank you," she says.

"For what?"

"What you did earlier today, what _we_ did," she explains. Coulson has an amazing expression on his face right now. "It helped me relax."

"Well," he says, dropping his gaze and clearing his throat, suddenly inexplicably shy as a schoolboy, "whenever you want."

"Is that a promise?" she teases him.

But he takes it seriously. "Yes, it is."

"Aw."

He gathers himself. "I think you should rest now, it's late."

"I guess you're right. And I already now it's a great bed."

"Well. Try not to think too much about Captain America as you lie in it. Try to think... a bit about me."

Definitely a shy schoolboy. It's not a bad look on him, but maybe Skye shouldn't tell him, keep the secret for her own amusement.

She smiles at him.

"See you in a couple of days, okay?"

"Okay."

She keeps smiling long after the comms link is dead. She didn't imagine she'd have much to smile about, when she woke up this very morning. Uh, what do you know.

And when she goes to bed that night, what do you know, she doesn't think about Captain America _at all_.


End file.
